


[S] DAVE:  SNAP

by pixelizedRifles



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Flashbacks, M/M, Multi, SayWeCanFly - Freeform, Self-Harm, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Triggers, Unrequited Love, talking hal what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3437681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixelizedRifles/pseuds/pixelizedRifles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is the final, you are the failing. This is the retro, you are the out of style. This is the grinding, you are the decay. This is the funeral, you are the casket." It's Primetime, and Dave Strider plans to make a performance for his audience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This story includes a lot of triggers, which I feel like I should probably post, so that Kankri isn’t up my ass.
> 
> It includes horrible profanity (written by yours truly,) but you should be used to that if you read the actual comic. It also includes self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and mentions of abuse. If these kind of things don’t settle well with you, please refrain from reading.  
> T  
> his story takes place after the game was won, and everyone (magically) made it out alive. Dirk also teams up with Equis to make a machine to portal the two worlds together, but you’ll read about that in the story. 
> 
>  **UPDATED MISTAKES & POSTING SECOND CHAPTER SOON**
> 
> Enjoy, I guess~

**[S] DAVE:   REREAD PESTERLOGS**

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you are currently REREADING your chatting history with A RATHER HOT-HEADED TROLL.

It wasn’t exactly the most pleasant conversation; but you suppose it was only for the best that it went down how it did. You would have preferred a more positive response, but there’s not enough time in the world for you to go back and fix it.

You bite into your knuckle as you scroll up to the beginning of your conversation, and take a shaky breath when it you find yourself directly quoting it all in a whisper.

**

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG]  began pestering carcinoGeneticist  [CG]  \---

TG: sup karkles

CG: WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT STRIDER?

TG: dude chill I didn’t even ask anything yet

CG: OH, YOU HAVE A QUESTION. I’M JUST QUAKING IN ANTICIPATION TO ANSWER YOUR SHITTY IRONIC ASS SELF.

TG: oh great then

TG: i need a favor

CG:  WHAT? NO! WHY THE FUCK WOULD I DO ANYTHING FOR YOU?

TG:  because it’s important

CG:  AND OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU COULD POSSIBLY BOTHER WITH THIS OH SO IMPORTANT TASK, YOU CHOOSE ME.

TG:  well you’re kinda the only one that can

TG:  seriously bro I fucked up

CG:  HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE FUCKED UP SO BAD AS TO REQUIRE MY ASSISTANCE, AND MINE ALONE?

TG:   ill tell you later

TG:  just do this first okay

CG: UGH FINE.

CG: WHAT’S THE FAVOR?

TG: so like youre pretty creative right

CG: DAMN STRAIGHT.

TG: and you enjoy insulting people

CG: GET TO THE POINT.

TG: i need to insult me

TG: make me feel like a piece of shit

CG: IS THIS SOME KIND OF KINKY SHIT YOU’RE INTO?

CG: BECAUSE IF IT IS THEN FUCK THAT.

TG: no man its not that

TG: its a long story ill tell you later

CG: NO, I WANT TO KNOW NOW. I HONESTLY DON’T SEE THE FUCKING POINT IN ALL OF THIS.

TG: nope creative insults first backstory later

CG: WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I EVEN DO THIS FOR YOU?

TG: dude this should be like a heaven for you

CG: NORMALLY IT WOULD BE.

CG: BUT THE FACT THAT YOU’D BE TAKING PLEASURE FROM IT JUST MAKES IT FUCKING POINTLESS. LIKE, HOW THE FUCK IS THIS EVEN GOING TO ACCOMPLISH ANYTHING?

TG: oh no im not taking pleasure from this

TG: if it means anything ill probably feel a little hurt from them

CG: THEN WHY THE BITCHSHITTING DICKWAD AM I DOING THIS?

TG: i told you

TG: creative insults first

TG: super longass backstory later

CG: THIS BETTER HAVE A FUCKING POINT, OR I’M GOING TO FUCKING MURDER YOU. DON'T YOU DARE BETRAY MY TRUST LIKE A FUCKING SHAMESHITTING NOOKSMOKER.

TG: warming up i see

TG: nice

TG: and it most definitely has a purpose

CG: FINE THEN. DAVE STRIDER.

TG: yes kitkat?

CG: YOU ARE THE MOST WORTHLESS BULGEHUMPING ASSDICK IN ALL OF PARADOX SPACE.

TG: ouch

TG: continue

CG: YOUR TEAM DIDN’T EVEN FUCKING NEED YOU AROUND, YOU WERE THAT FUCKING USELESS. HARLEY EVEN DID MORE THAN YOU, AND SHE WAS THE ONE THAT FUCKED UP IN THE FIRST PLACE.

CG:  YOU ARE BY FAR THE MOST REPULSIVE ASSGRABBING DOUCHEBAG I HAVE EVER HAD THE UNFORTUNE OF MEETING. YOU AND YOUR COCKY ASS LITTLE ATTITUDE IS SHIT. YOU AREN’T COOL. YOU’RE JUST AN IDIOTIC BULGELICKING DIMFUCK WHO CAN’T EVEN PROTECT HIS DAMN LUSUS.

CG: EVEN JOHN IS MORE TOLERABLE THAN YOU. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY YOU ASKED ME TO MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE SHIT WHEN YOU OBVIOUSLY ALREADY ARE.

CG: ACTUALLY, YOU’RE LOWER THAN SHIT. YOU’RE A DUMB PILE OF FUMING IMBECILIC WASTE OF TIME. YOUR GODTIER WENT TO FUCKING WASTE. JUST LIKE YOUR BRO’S LIFE DID, WHEN HE DIED. FOR A FUCKWHIFFING SHIT-FOR-BRAINS LIKE YOU.

CG: CAN I STOP NOW?

TG: no bro its not working

CG: WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S NOT WORKING?

CG: WHAT THE FUCK ISN’T WORKING HERE?

TG: the problem

TG: its still there

TG: jesus christ

TG: im crying and everything man

TG: why isnt it working

CG:  UH…OKAY NOW I’M  A BIT CONCERNED.

TG: keep insulting me dude

CG: NO!!

TG: why the fuck not

CG: BECAUSE YOU AREN’T BEING AS MUCH OF A DOUCHEBAG AS YOU USUALLY ARE!

CG: AND IT’S SCARING ME!

TG: no no dude you dont understand

TG: i need this okay

TG: if your insults dont fix this

TG: then im never going to be that douchebag again

CG: I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK ‘THIS’ IS!

CG: JUST FUCKING TELL ME SO I CAN HELP YOU, DAMMIT!

TG: but dude i cant

CG: YOU CAN, STRIDER. THERE IS NOTHING PHYSICALLY HOLDING YOU BACK FROM TELLING ME.

TG: youll hate me

TG: i already hate me

CG: DAVE, COME ON. WE’RE 'BROS', REMEMBER? I’M NOT GOING TO HATE YOU BECAUSE OF SOME STUPIDASS FUCKUP. SERIOUSLY, HAVE A LITTLE FUCKING FAITH IN ME. I’M NOT THAT MUCH OF A DOUCHEBAG.

TG: ive developed an affection for you

CG: UH…WHAT?

TG: whenever we talk i get dubstep butterflies in my stomach

TG: like i want to cuddle you all the fucking time

TG: youre just so goddamn cute

TG: it makes me feel sick thinking about you with someone else

CG: UM….

TG: and it scares me

TG: because the only other person i cared about this much was my bro

TG: and we both know how that went down

CG: DAVE…I..

**

You close your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. Tears rolled down your cheeks, surpassing the mask you’ve held for so long behind your shades. You remember this moment in the conversation like it was yesterday. It was actually three weeks ago, but after rereading it so many times who could forget?

You remember the glimmer of hope you had when you confessed. After years of telling yourself how disgustingly revolting your little crush was, you thought that maybe, just maybe, he would return your feelings.

You were so naïve; it makes you want to be sick.

Your life is no fairy tale; you’ve been reminded that time and time again. And yet hope always seems to squeeze its way into you, telling you that everything will be okay and to hold your head up and—

And prepare yourself. Because no matter what you do, you’re always going to fail.

It’s pathetic, and almost a bit overly dramatic, but true. You, Dave Strider are a failure. You’re a failure to your Bro, to your friends, and to yourself. Obviously to Karkat too; you can’t even fucking hold a friendship with the guy. You don’t even need to scroll down to remember what he said to you…The same words that have prevented the two of you from conversing for weeks.

You aren’t sure when you started sobbing, but they seem to fall out of your mouth as your head hits your computer desk, and you’re completely washed away by your emotions.

This isn’t supposed to happen.

Striders aren’t supposed to show emotion.  Hell, the only emotions Striders are supposed to have are pride and victory. Is victory an emotion? To Bro, it was. To Dirk too, you would assume. But you? You don’t have time for pride of victory. You’re too washed up in your depression to keep up your self-confidence.

You don’t exactly know when it started, this depression. Maybe around when you turned thirteen, you realized that you didn’t really have someone to go to when you had a problem. You couldn’t possibly go to your friends, it’d cost you your act. Your bro would only scold you for being overly sensitive.

Then came along Sburb, and with it, the voices.

Being a Knight of Time seemed pretty hella fun at first. You pretty much did whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. Sure there were downsides, like other yous eating your Doritos, but you learned how to deal with that. When few started dying off, you weren’t too concerned. But sometimes…You felt like you could hear their screams, their emotions. You played it off as your imagination, until all of your clones were defeated.

You felt all of them, all of them at once. You felt their fear, their pain.

You felt their misery.

You never did find out why you were depressed. It’s not like it was an all-day thing, sure you’d find something to distract yourself every once in a while. But when it came, it came randomly with no warning. And often times, you found yourself hardly able to escape.

You found your escape through unspeakable measures.

It was an accident, really. It occurred on the meteor, and you remember it very well. The days of attempting to converse with your fellow travelers were far over, and none had seemed to notice the overwhelming sadness that seemed to drip out of you.

You were hungry as fuck, so logically you began cutting up lettuce. Enough Doritos, you need to stay fit for the new session. Unfortunately, your fingers didn’t share the same opinion. The knife came down slightly harsh on your left hand – you still have the scar – and for a moment, the voices in your head went away. The emptiness that filled you slowly started to fill up with displeasure, but you found it all the more welcome. Of course, the sight of blood did make you a bit dizzy, but it was pleasurable nonetheless, and you knew right then and there you had found your escape.

It wasn’t long until you became addicted.

You found the codes for razors and knives, and managed to hide them very well.  Not that anyone cared enough to check, anyways.

Soon enough, you had cuts all the way up your arms, and across your thighs. You had taken to recutting open old scars, which seemed to heal almost twice as fast seeing as you were a god tier.

They faded too quickly. You didn’t like it.

 

That’s why when you beat the game and returned home to earth, you found yourself almost passing out from blood loss.

You always wear a hoodie, and you refuse to unzip it. You make sure nobody can see you, that you can keep your composure around them. And it works, it really does. It allows you to be stoic and appear emotionless. Honestly, you think you might be losing your emotions. Which is great, considering you’re a Strider and that’s what Striders do.

The only problem is, you’ve contemplated suicide.

You’re not a godtier anymore, you’re back to being a human. You could die anytime, and you doubt that anyone would care.

You see no future for yourself. When the game was one, your Bro didn’t come back. Dirk did, but he’s not the same. Karkat was the only one you’d seen as a potential romantic partner for a long time. This was no fairytale, and you certainly aren’t a goddamn princess. You aren’t waiting for your knight in shining armor, and you aren’t going to be anybody else’s knight. You doubt they’d want you anyways, you’re a useless sack of shit.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you have no idea when your self-confidence became an act.

You’ve quieted yourself down, and by doing so you can hear the laughter emitting from downstairs.

Oh, right. They were eating dinner.

And by they, you mean everyone.

After awhile of situating living arrangements (John lived with Jane, and Rose with Roxy, while Jade and Jake took up living with you and Dirk since the apartment was huge and the two alphas had regained their relationship,) Dirk began working on a machine to connect Alternia to Earth. With a little help on the other side, they managed to do so, and (most) of the trolls you’ve come to hate (and begrudgingly adore) crossed over to your world.

They are now sitting in the dining room, eating dinner with your “friends.”

They didn’t invite you.

Nobody seemed to talk to you anymore, and that was perfectly okay with you. You locked yourself up in your room, occasionally leaving to go to the bathroom, and grabbing more food to stock up in your closet. Dirk checked up on you a few times, but it was mostly awkward confrontations. You were brothers, but you weren’t. You supposed you’d get used to each other eventually, but eventually seemed a hella far away. And—Oh.

When…When did that get there?

There’s a razor in your skin, and there’s a mini blood puddle on your desk. You can’t count the scratches littering your arm, or how deep you’ve cut. Everything is numb, and your head begins to spin.

Fuck, not again.

You hurriedly get up, making your way to your closet for an energy drink. You needed sugar, something to replace the missing iron in yo—

You didn’t realize that you slipped until your face was inches against the ground. You also have no idea what you slipped on – although later you would find it to be one of your old stupid mix CD’s—though that’s hardly important to you because your face is now planted into the carpet and oh my god what the fuck was that soun—

You broke.

Honestly, you’ve always liked to wonder what stopped you from just giving up your act. Showing people that youre just a useless sack of shit with a shitty personality. You like to tell yourself that it’s because you’re a Strider, but you hardly feel attached to that notion anymore. So what exactly was holding you down, and preventing you from flying away?

Your mask. The one that hides the ugliest part of you—the one that had little girls screaming at the sight of you in kindergarten, teachers scowling at you and declaring you a devil spawn. The mask that hid your tears when you would accidentally cry in public.

You stare with wide eyes at your “mask” which have snapped in half on the floor in front of you.

Your shades are broken.

And so are you.

You stood up numbly, your eyes never leaving the reflective parts of your former glasses, forgetting all about your bloody arm that has begun to soak into the carpet. You have nothing protecting you. There’s nothing to hide you from the world now. Nothing to shield away the blood that runs down your arms when you meet your escape, or bring back bitter memories of a time when John and you were actually close friends.

The last part of you that was pretending that he was okay…lay broken on the floor.

And suddenly, you feel like you can fly.

You don’t know when or why you started to scream; maybe it was a late reaction to your battered shades. Maybe it was a victory call, or something of an emotion releaser.

All you do know is that you’ve warned the others, and you’ll have to be quick.

Perhaps it’ll be better with an audience.

You dart to the roof, speeding up the stairs faster than you ever thought you could. You slowed down your pace, gradually walking over to the ledge. You can hear them downstairs, but that hardly matters to you now. You look down below, and you see the same busy street from your childhood strifes with your Bro.

And suddenly, you never felt more at home.

You’re not aware that you’re still crying, nor are you aware of the approaching footsteps banging harshly on the roof stairway.

You stretch out your arms, and close your eyes. You never really had a religion, but you selfishly hope that whatever lies in afterlife is a hell lot better than the life you’ve lived here. No matter what it is, you’ll get to see your bro again. And that’s a hell lot more than you could ever want.

You try to move forward, but you’re frozen. You can’t move. Pathetically, you can’t even commit suicide with a little help.

You call on the voices.

They come in strong hoards, screaming and whispering, threatening and singing, but it isn’t enough. You need more. And suddenly, the perfect thing comes to mind.

**

CG: DAVE…I…

CG: …YOU KNOW WHAT? NO.

CG: FUCK YOU.

CG: THIS IS NOT A THING. WE ARE NOT DOING THIS.

CG: FUCK YOU DAVE STRIDER.

CG: FUCK YOU AND YOUR STUPID ASS EARTH FEELINGS.

CG: DON’T EVEN FUCKING TALK TO ME, YOU SHITSPEWING ASSCLOWN.

CG: EVER.

>CG: DON’T CALL ME BRO; DON’T HIT ME UP FOR ANYMORE FUCKING RETARDED FAVORS.YOU ARE A FUCKING ASSHOLE, YOU HEAR ME?

CG: UGH. IF I EVER SEE YOU, I’M GOING TO STRANGLE YOU.

CG: DON’T TALK TO ME.

carcinoGeneticist  [CG]  has ceased pestering turntechGodhead  [TG] 

**

It’s the final push.

Suddenly, you’re falling. The exhilaration that fills you is breathtaking, and you find yourself laughing bitterly to yourself.

You’ve only very rarely fallen, but when you do, you fall _hard._

And as the sidewalk becomes closer and closer, you can’t help but feel a little disappointment.

This was _nothing_ compared to how hard you fell the last time.

When you fell _for him._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg ; u ; So much support cx Thank you soooo much, especially since this is my first work on here! Or maybe I’m just a noob getting worked up over nothing .-. I dunno. Anywayyys, THANK YOU.  
> Err…As for what THIS is…  
> This idea of mine was originally supposed to be turned into a veeeeery long series. Thing about that is, I suck at regularly updating things. My dead fanfiction.net account can vouch for that. This turned out to be more of a venting thing for me than anything else, sooo…Yeah.  
> So uhh…I decided to give this a shot- this whole series thingy…Hopefully I don’t disappoint anyone.  
> .-. Here ya go, weirdos.~

**[S] Reader -- > Be someone.**

But which SOMEONE could you possibly hope to be? There are FAR TOO MANY people in the room at the moment, and choosing just one would prove to be VERY DIFFICULT. Not to mention that everyone seems to be enveloped in THEIR OWN CONVERSATIONS and catching up would be VERY TEDIOUS AND BORING.

So, instead of being SOMEONE ELSE, why not be content with who you are now, hm? Have some pride, you’re gorgeous.

**[S] Reader -- > Be the reader.**

You are now the reader.

As the reader, you are about to come to the distinct realization that this fanfiction, for a short bit, is going into a third person’s p.o.v.

Like…Now.

Karkat sat slouched in his chair, attempting to ignore his rib cage that had begun to poke harshly at stomach. He’d never really been THAT big, but Sburb had certainly shaped him up for the better. Now that the game has ended, he’s done nothing but sit on his as and shrivel up again; not that he has anything better to do.

Oh, no wait. This is getting too deep. Better go back to second person.

….Like, now.

**[S] Reader -- > Be Karkat.**

You are now Karkat.

You poke at the food on your plate, your stomach growling in protest though you paid it no mind. The meal itself was delicious as promised, but there was only so much one Crocker could do, and you figured that the portion on your plate wouldn’t fill you anyways.

You glance around the table at some of the people you’ve come to love and hate, some seated close to one another than needed. You drum your fingers on his placemat anxiously. When Dirk Strider had propositioned a machine to connect Alternia to Earth, nobody really though he’d be able to do it.

And yet here you are, as well as all your friends (excluding Captor and Ampora) conversing at the dinner table with the humans like you’ve never spent a minute apart. All of the humans were present, save one.

You feel yourself begin to grow anxious. You didn’t really want to be here, but of course Kanaya just HAD to disagree. You glance over at your friend to see her flirting it up with the Rose human. Oh yeah, she just TOTALLY needed you here. You grumble to yourself, rubbing your sweaty hands on your dress pants. Did you mention that you were dressed up? No? Of course not.

Everyone was, it seemed. You don’t really know why everything seemed so formal – especially since you were dining in an old hotel’s abandoned café, vacant and empty aside from the occasional laughter of your peers. Still, it was nice. All gathering like this, looking nice and fancy. You all had your issues with one another, and don’t even MENTION the cultural differences, so you can enjoy this moment of pure bliss among each other. No death, no buckets. Just laughter.

You just wonder when _he_ is going to show up.

Dave fucking Strider was the only one not here.

Just the mere thought of the albino usually sent you into a rage of fits and cursewords. But lately…It’s done nothing but bring down your mood.

Sure, you have plenty of reasons to hate him. Dave, after all, was one of the main reasons Gamzee went on a killing spree. He was also the one who stole your main love interest in the blink of an eye, even though he was nowhere near the romantic as you were. Love is blind, you suppose. Not only did he steal Terezi, but John too, and even then he wanted nothing more than a platonic relationship with the derpy human.

As much as you hate to admit, you also have plenty of reasons to…appreciate Dave’s existence. Even though Dave Strider must be the biggest assholes ever to exist, he just happened to be the only one who put up with your bullshit long enough to spend most of the ride on the meteor with you. He was your ‘Bro’, though you’d never tell him that willingly. And now…you feel you’ve fucked everything up just because you were angry.

But seriously…He had the _audacity_ to be flushed for you?!

After all he’s taken away, after all of the teasing and shitty jokes that you’d put up with for a long three years. After having everything you ever wanted, it’s _you_ that he wants? You found the thought displeasing as well as uncomfortable; you’d never seen interest in Dave as a romantic partner. Maybe you’ve considered yourself black for him once or twice, but you knew that he’d probably never see you that way.

Of course, this had all taken place weeks ago – three to be exact – and you’ve not made contact with the coolkid since. You like to tell yourself that it’s for the best, but you know you aren’t angry anymore. But then again, you also like to tell yourself that you, for a matter of fact, did NOT enjoy watching Llamas with Hats….and you know what such bullshit that is.

If anything, you miss your playful little fights, and the way he seemed to make everything come back to those stupid videos by CowFilm or whatever they were called.  You’ve been waiting patiently – 20 minutes infact—for said human to stride into the room in the most ridiculous of suits, wearing his signature shit-eating grin. And when he does, you don’t know if you’ll be able to hold back your own smile.

No. Stop it.

You’re guilty as fuck, of course you are. You didn’t mean to be so harsh, but URGH does that kid just GET ON YOUR NERVES!

You know it’s probably not his fault; that he never really meant for John or Terezi to fall for him. You know sure as hell he didn’t expect that stupid video to send your ex-moirail on a rampage. Or should you say your ex-ex-moirail? After Sburb had ended, you and Gamzee had continued your moirailship, shrugging off the original break up as an effect of the game.

It lasted about a week. And then he broke up with you again, only four months ago. Only this time, he specified why.

You’d never hated yourself so much. In fact, you’d been completely distraught. Locked yourself up in your hive, and refused to come out. You only rarely answered your friends’ pesters, and when you did you made sure they knew you were NOT IN THE MOOD.

Infact, the only reason you made it out of your depressing slur is…Oh jegus just go to the flashback.

\--

_You sat curled up on the ground, submerged in your misery and worthlessness. You tried to push back the tears coming through your lashes, but failed to hold back the single tear that rolled down your cheek every once in a while. You’d always upheld your reputation as a crybaby, but you just CANT HELP IT. Once you start, it’s impossible to stop. Even if it’s one tear at a time._

_You hug your knees to your chest, the only sound in the room being the light hum of your recuperacoon. The lights have been off for days, and you ignore the painful pinch in your stomach, wincing as it rumbles. You haven’t eaten in days, not that it even matters anyways. You’ll never uphold a healthy figure – you’ve known that for a while. Gamzee was the only one that cared about you, and look how that turned out. You see no reason in living anymore, though as cowardly as you are, you cannot permit yourself to taking any_ rash _actions._

_The silence is broken by a ding on your husktop, and you grimace as the bright light fills the darkened room. You wriggle your way over to the computer, and roll your eyes when you see your trollchum blinking up. When will these idiots give up? You open up the recent chatter, and are surprised to see who has messaged you._

\--  turntechGodhead  [TG]  began pestering  carcinoGeneticist  [CG]  \--

TG:  dude karkles you okay 

TG:  karkles answer me bro 

CG:  WHAT.

TG:  oh thank god 

TG:  you worried me bro 

TG:   i thought something happened to you or some shit 

TG:   you okay?? 

CG:  DEFINE OKAY.   

TG:  oh thats definitely not good  

TG:  what happened 

TG:  is it me  

CG:  NO, IT’S NOT YOU. I’D ACTUALLY RATHER NOT TALK ABOUT IT.  

TG:  well shit i cant help you if you don't tell me what the matter is 

TG: how about we try this again mr. snooty pants  

TG: what the hell is going on  

CG: UGH. IF YOU MUST KNOW, I’M GOING THROUGH A VERY EMOTIONAL HEARTBREAK AT THE MOMENT, NOT THAT YOU OF ALL PEOPLE WOULD UNDERSTAND. EVERYTHING HURTS. IN FACT, I DON’T THINK I’VE EVER HATED MYSELF AS MUCH AS I DO RIGHT NOW. AND THAT’S SAYING SOMETHING. BUT NO, REALLY. I’D LIKE TO SEE HOW YOU OF ALL PEOPLE COULD HELP ME THROUGH THIS, ESPECIALLY SINCE ALTERNIA AND EARTH ARE ON TWO DIFFERENT TIME STREAMS. 

TG: oh hot damn the sass is real  

TG: sorry to hear bro   

TG: who was the douchebag you were even dating anyways  

CG: GAMZEE. AND DON’T YOU DARE CALL HIM THAT, YOU FUCKING SHITHEAD. 

TG: whoa whoa whoa put the phone on fucking hold 

 TG: you were dating that clown?? and youre UPSET about being separated?? 

CG: WE WERE IN A MOIRAILSHIP, DIPSHIT. LIKE I SAID, YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND. SO IF YOU COULD JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE TO WALLOW IN MY DEPRESSION, THAT’D BE FANTASTIC.

TG: no man im not just gonna leave you alone like this

TG: look i think i know how to help you  

TG: give me a mintue   

CG: URGH, DON’T EVEN BOTHER STRIDER. NONE OF YOUR SHITY COMICS OR CLIP ART COULD FIX THIS. NOT EVEN LINDSAY LOHAN. 

CG:….HELLO?! HAVE YOU GONE DEAF? I SAID I’M NOT INTERESTED, STRIDER. 

CG: WOW, YOU’RE A FUCKING IDIOT.  

CG: JUST FORGET IT. I’M NOT EVEN WASTING ANYMORE TIME ON YOU.  

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG]  has ceased pestering  turntechGodhead [TG]  \--

_You close your husktop, once again enclosing yourself back into the darkness of your room. You shivered lightly, curling up into a ball to fight the cold._

_You refused to go into your recuperacoon. You didn’t deserve that kind of luxury treatment. The floor would do, though the spot you chose was ridiculously close to the soft human resting place that they refer to as ‘a couch.’ You’d only alchemized it out of curiosity, but it was so unbelievably comfy, you’d even fallen asleep during one of your movies amongst its plush cushions and soft fra-_

_No. Scum like you only deserves the floor_

_You don’t know hold long you laid there on the floor, your cheek firmly pressed against the cool hard floor, restraining your tears to the best of your ability. And so if anyone ever dared to ask, you’d reasonably argue that you in fact did NOT almost shit your pants when warm arms wrapped around you, and pulled you into a sturdy chest._

_“HOLYSHITWH-Wait, Dave?”_

_The boy holding you only gave a half grin, and lifted you up, leaning forward slightly to place you on the ‘couch.’ “Uhh-No hey wait!” Before you could even begin to hesitate, or ask how the hell the boy was in your hive, -- but OH MY GOG WAS THAT COLOGNE HE WAS WEARING – your vision was blocked out, and suddenly everything seemed very warm and fuzzy._

_Ah, so this is what a blanket is._

_Your vision returned as Dave wrapped the human warming device around you, and you unconsciously pulled it closer, not noticing how cold you were before. You pulled it up to your face, relishing in the softness only to find that it held the same musky scent the human did. A smell that had become increasingly familiar over your time together on the meteor and somehow…calming._

_The human plopped down next to you, and pulled you into a hug. You were practically on his lap, but if that angered you then you showed no sign because suddenly you were_ crying _in the most loud and embarrassing way you ever possibly could and he just sat there rubbing circles on your back, not shooshing you or anything._

_Then again, he wasn’t your moirail._

_You didn’t have one._

_You clung to him like your life depended on it and later you would come to realize that it really did. Though that’s too much of a spoiler to let onto right now._

_He kept silence as you sobbed deeply into his shoulder, most likely staining his shirt with your tears. Everything was flowing out of you, not just your tears but your depression and anxiety and all of your rage that had bottled up over the years of Sburb._

_Somehow you managed to find comfort in his silence; he didn’t feed you the “It’s okay” bullshit, and thankfully he didn’t shush you. You don’t think you could’ve stopped even if he asked you to._

_No, Dave Strider was just sitting there holding you, allowing you to let it all out. You found comfort in his presence, and the fact that he had somehow managed to cross not only time but alternate dimensions puzzles you, yet flatters you all the same._

_You suppose he’s a knight for a reason; always there to aid someone in need. But you certainly aren’t a princess, and his godtier had been left behind weeks ago when they had finished Sburb once and for all._

_Even with all of this rolling through your head, you couldn’t make out a word through your gross sobbing and occasional groans. Dave didn’t seem to mind, thankfully, and when you finally heard his voice rumble from his chest and into yours you about jumped out of your skin. Why? Because Dave Strider wasn’t speaking to you._

_He was singing._

_“I bet my life you’ve heard this all before…_

_…and I also bet my life, that you forgot.”_

_Your eyes widened, and you had to choke back a sob because goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard…_

_It wasn’t like he was anything amazing; his quiet whisper-like voice was anything but professional, though it still sent shivers down your spine. And don't even get started on that accent, dear lord._

_The human paused for a moment, almost to see if you would reject him ((which you wouldn’t, of course, he was all you had as of the moment,)) before continuing._

_“You’ve gotta hope for the best and prepare for the worst…._

_…and always keep your best foot forwards.”_

_“I know that sometimes life gets rough,_

_but that’s never a reason to give up._

_Keep your heart up in the clouds;_

_Never let the people drag you down.”_

_You sniffled as he continued on, his voice slightly off-tune but perfect in your ears. You allowed yourself to be pulled closer to him, and silenced your sobs, only streams of tears falling down your face._

_“I have learned to chase my dreams; I know that if I don’t they will get away on me._

_So I do what I love to do..”_

_Dave paused – most likely for an instrumental break, you assumed, and you took the opportunity to bury your face in his neck. He seemed taken aback for a moment, but took no action to move you. You were glad; because the change in position not only made you feel safe, but was also really comfortable._

_The coolkid continued, only this time tilting his head so he spoke directly into your ear. You shivered at his lullaby tone, feeling immediately relaxed._

_“Let me tell you a secret…_

_…it gets me through…and I hope you believe it.”_

_“Wake up every day, you know exactly what you want._

_And you will find it…_

_…just don’t get lost.”_

_He continued to sing what seemed like the main chorus to you again, and you felt your tears dry up as a warm feeling enveloped you. You’d never seen a side like this from Dave before, but hey you weren’t complaining. You couldn’t hold back the low purring that began to emit itself from your throat, though he didn’t seem bothered by it._

_He continued on until you were half-asleep on his shoulder, your soft purrs turning into loud and appreciative vibrations you could feel echoing into his stomach._

_“…I do what I love to do.”_

_Dave’s voice ceased leaving a silence once more, and you were tempted to ask him to sing it again before reminding yourself that you had better questions._

_“How did you get here?” you mumbled into his chest, and he sighed, (of relief, perhaps?)tightening his hold on you. “Dirk’s transporter. Figured I’d be the first test subject.”_

_You frown; last time you were informed, Dirk wasn’t even nearly done with the device he planned to connect your worlds with. “Isn’t that dangerous?” you questioned, lifting your head slightly to look at him. Of course, he was grinning._

_“Yeah well, anything for you babe.”_

_You punched him lightly in the shoulder, lowering your head again so that your grin was hidden from sight._

_The two of you stayed like that for a while, in each other’s arms and not saying a thing. It didn’t seem awkward, or unpleasant, almost like a feelings jam. Even though that’s the last thing you would ever consider it to be._

_It was Dave that broke the silence at last, by pulling away from you in order to stretch. “Well as lovely as this has been, I seriously have to go. Don’t want Dirk knowing I messed with his shit.”_

_“Oh…Okay.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice, you really did, but even with the shades you could tell Dave was looking at you funny._

_“Don’t worry dude, we’ll see each other soon enough.” He reached a hand out to ruffle your hair, and you smacked it, turning away from him. “Yeah, whatever.” You retorted, crossing your arms across your chest. What a poser, how did you even think he was an okay dude for that amount of time?_

_The hatred didn’t last, however, because soon enough Dave’s arms were wrapped around you again –this time from behind – and his smooth silky voice was whispering in your ear again. Only this time, much to your disappointment, he wasn’t singing._

_“Stay strong Kitkat,” he whispered, and pulled away. He poked something on his wrist – difficult to see in the darkness, a watch perhaps?—and a sudden green light appeared in the corner of your room. He gave you a little wave, and walked towards it before you remembered._

_“Oh hey, Dave wait!” You shouted, freeing yourself from the human ‘blanket’. “You forgot this!”_

_He turned to you, and gave a lazy half-grin, waving you off. “Nah, it’s cool man. Keep it. You can give it back later.”_

_You didn’t argue. It was, after all, incredibly soft and warm and_ wonderful. _You raised a tentative hand, giving him a little wave, and he returned the favor before disappearing into the green light._

_That night, you slept better than you had ever before. And when you woke up, for once in your miserable lifetime, everything seemed like it was going to be okay._

_\--_

So yeah, you could say that you owed a great deal to Dave. You were also hoping to return his blanket, seeing as you had selfishly been holding onto it for this long. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea after all; you appreciated his help but you didn’t appreciate his…feelings towards you. And another thing—

Oh look at that, it’s time to go back to third-person now. Bye Karkles!

**[S] Reader: Be the Reader. Again.**

 

“But really, how’s little Davey been? Is he ever going to come down here?” Roxy asks, completely breaking the comedic mood from before and Dirk shakes his head, a frown plastered on his face.

 

“I don’t really know, to be honest. He never comes out of his room unless he’s gotta piss, or to grab some pop tarts. Kid never says real sentences to me. At first I shrugged it off as an awkward brother thing but recently…I’ve been pretty concerned.” He replied, all-the-while poking at his food untastefully.

“Do you think something bad may have happened?” Jade questioned from the other side of the table. The alpha Strider opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by his flashing shades.

“Well obviously,” AR spoke in a slightly more robotic voice than his wearer. “But no, maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe the kid just adores sitting in his room all day without contacting anyone, or even having the decency to show up for a daily meal. But what do I know, I’m just a lousy piece of glass-wear, ain’t that right Dirky?”

“Oh shut the hell up,” Dirk snapped, rubbing his temples. He horribly regrets the day he decided it would be a great idea to give his shades its own voice. Seriously, what the HELL was going through his head?!

“Make me, sunshine.”

“I _will_ take your talking privileges, Hal.”

“Uh-huh. And I’ll just rewire myself back up when you’re sleeping.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Karkat rolled his eyes. He was curious as to Dave’s whereabouts, and the childish bickering wasn’t getting at anywhere. He cleared his throat, and was surprised to see everyone at the table turn to him with questioning eyes. Karkat felt a bit anxious under all of his peers’ attention, but he was a leader and he had to show that.

“So, err…Dave’s _not_ coming down tonight?” he asked, and frowned when Egbert grew the most ridiculous grin on his face.

“You’re worried.” He said, and Karkat felt his face lightly flush.

“So? Got a problem with that?” he mumbled, lowering his head slightly. John looked like he was about to speak, when a large bang erupted from upstairs. The table was left in an awkward silence, listening in for any possible answer. It remained like that for a while, only broken by Dirk Strider standing up, a familiar half-grin on his face.

“Well, how about we have desert?”

The table erupted again in agreement, and most went back to their original conversations. Before Jane could get a word in, however, Roxy grabbed Dirk’s arm as he retreated to get the desert.

“D-Striiiii why don't we go—“

And that was when they heard it. The excruciating scream erupting from upstairs, echoing throughout the entire building like a sonic boom. And there was only one explanation.

Dirk, of course, was the first one to stand. He flash-stepped as fast as he could to the stairway, and climbed them faster than any Olympic athlete ever could. Jake followed suit, struggling to keep up though he didn’t seem keen on giving up. Roxy and Jane shared an incredulous look, and joined in, followed by John….Rose…Jade…

Karkat looked around at the table, now only occupied by his fellow trolls. He couldn’t read the expression on Terezi’s face, though if he had to guess it was horrified. Even Gamzee looked concerned, and so before he knew it, Karkat was joining the others in the trip up the stairs. A few followed behind him, though he spared no time in looking back.

As Karkat reached the top floor, he hurried over to the Striders’ complex, only to see Jane leading out a crying Roxy. Fuck, that’s not a good sign. He walked into the apartment, only to see Jake English standing awkwardly outside one of the doors. He spared the trolls a look, and it was filled with so much pity that tears began to sting in his eyes.

Karkat approached the door next to him, and slowly opened it to reveal Dave’s room. It was very tidy, surprisingly, and if not for the blood on the floor, everything would have seemed normal.

Wait…In the blood…are those razors..?

Dirk Strider sat crouched on the ground, though his eyes weren’t on a razor. They were staring down at a pair of shades –Dave’s to be exact. They were shattered, and oddly bent. To Karkat, it was a pity that they broke. But to Dirk, he knew that it meant so much more.

“Hal, get the rocket board ready,” he commanded in a dark and unemotional tone, standing up and flash-stepping away. “Where are you going?” Jake asked worriedly, following suit. “The roof,” Dirk snapped, racing up the steps as fast as he possibly could.

Not so soon after, John and the others reached Karkat, and peered into the young strider’s room incredulously. Karkat just stood there, the pieces slowly connecting in his mind.

The blood…The razors…The shades…The anti-socialness…The roof…

Holy fucking shit.

Karkat shoved John, unaware of how harshly the human landed & practically threw himself up the stairs. Nonononono, this was not fucking happening. The humans, on the other hand, were slightly appalled and confused. Jade offered a hand to John, who had crashed into one of Dave’s drawers. Rose seemed fixed on the bloody floor, and Kanaya offered a light pat on her matesprites shoulder.

“What’s going on?” John questioned, obviously confused. “Where’s Dave? Is he okay? Why did Karkat—“

“Stop.” Rose ordered, and turned briskly on her heel. “C’mon, let’s go join the others. We can only hope that Dirk isn’t too late…”

“Too late for what?!?” John exclaimed, but followed nonetheless, Roxy & Jane following suit.

Of course, they would all be too late to see what really was going on.

Karkat was practically crawling up the stairs, his bones ached but he ignored them. This was not happening. He utterly fucking refused to let this happen. He passed Jake, who was panting a few steps behind him. Dirk was only a staircase above him now, and as he heard the roof door slam open, he breathed out a sigh of relief.

“DAVE!”

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have been relieved. He ignored his eyes’ protest as he approached the light, and refused to close them, even after almost blinding himself.

When he reached the top, he froze. Time itself seemed to freeze, and he supposed maybe that’s what happens when one of its representatives throw themselves off of the roof.

He watched as Dirk fearlessly dived after him, and suddenly Karkat felt a great appreciation for the man’s ridiculously OP rocket board. He forced himself to move forward a bit, after hearing the others approaching from behind. He stared at the empty space where his friend once stood, and he replayed him falling over and over again in his mind.

He wondered whose side Time would choose.

Karkat stood there silently, the humans and trolls gathering around him silent as well, and stared where he did, unsure of what they were waiting for.

And so, when a rocket board rose across the horizon, carrying two brothers in his wake, Karkat felt himself drop to the ground. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh, or cry.

So he did both.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGHHHH I WAS GOING TO UPDATE THIS AN HOUR AGO BUT MY COMPUTER DECIDED TO FREEZE AND BEING THE DUMMY I WAS, I DIDNT SAVE IT. SO YEAH. I GOT TO REWRITE IT ALL AGAIN. FUN.
> 
> But no, really. Excuse my horrible rushing here. Maybe I'll go back and fix it eventually.  
> Err, thanks for reading .-.
> 
> Uhhhh I have no idea why the other note is showing up .-. Sorry for being a noob e.e


	3. Up on the Rooftop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO UPDATE ; n ; and for something so short too, ugh! I'll try to make the next one longer!

The rooftop was nearly silent as Dirk was lifted down to the ground, the only sounds breaking the barrier being the maniacal laughter of a nubby-horned troll, and the sobbing of a boy clad in red.

Said boy – Dave Strider – currently resided in his elders’ arms, shook violently as his arm continued to bleed out; dripping down to join the rest of the stains that currently resided on the complexes roof. Though Dirk seemed completely stoic, his mouth slightly twitched down in distaste, and a bit of fear.

Unsure of what to do, the gathering crowd among the staircase only stared, some breathing more heavily than others. When Karkat rose to the ground, wiping his tears on his sleeve, he looked to the boy he once knew, the inconsiderate douchebag that he had hated so long – broken; defeated. Without his obnoxious shades, the pride his face had held for so long, he wept loudly and without reason, piercing scarlet eyes seeing the light for the first time in ages.

Karkat couldn’t hold back his tears, and yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Some part of him knew that this was his fault, that this was a result of his harshness. And yet again, he fucked up. He almost got one of his friends killed – for real this time.

As Dirk stepped off of the rocket board, Dave continued to scream, his voice scratchy and yet alarmingly sharp – causing some to wince at the intensity.

“NOOOOOO! PUT ME DOWN!!!”

“Hey, calm down lil’ bro,” Dirk spoke softly, grunting lightly as Dave began pounding on him with his fists.

“NO! STOP!” Dave shrieked, his physical advances becoming more violent.

“Dave—“

“YOU. ARE. NOT. HIM!”

Dirk paused for a moment, seeming taken-aback.  The younger brother seemed to take this as an advantage, and with a swift elbow to the crotch, he rolled out of Dirks arms, and slammed into the pavement. Dirk followed suit, groaning as he tried to recover from the blow.

Dave stood up quietly, choked sobs escaping the back of his throat. “I-I don’t like being touched…You’re…not him…” he said again, quieter this time. “You’re…not my bro…”

“Dave…” Dirk reached out for him, only for said teen to jerk back with a squeak. “Please don’t…You’re not Bro, thank fucking GOD you aren’t Bro…I,” he shivered, “….I don’t like being touched…” he whimpered, and Dirk stood up, keeping his distance this time. He stared down at the younger Strider, slowly connecting the pieces together in his head.

“You…Dave, did he…Did I ever—“

“You aren’t him…” Dave repeated, raising his eyes to meet the florescent orange ones behind pointy shades. “You aren’t so,” he shook his head, “don’t…blame yourself for what you didn’t do.”

Dirks mouth dropped open, and a silence developed on the roof, occasionally broken by the younger Strider’s sniffles. He held his wounded arm close, eyes wide and darting around cautiously, like a wild animal surrounded by hunters. It was Rose that broke the silence.

“David…You do know that if you need to talk about stuff, I’m always—“

“Shut the fuck up Rose,” Dave snapped coldly, his body visibly shaking. “You don’t give a fuck about me, nobody fucking does. You just want to fill your goddamn therapist kinks. I’m not stupid…”

“Nobody ever said you were, man.” Dirk interjected a small frown on his face. “Look, maybe that wasn’t the best place to start. But—“

“But what?” Dave interrupted, turning to face his brother full-on. “What are you going to do? Put me on meds? Force me to talk? Actually treat me like a decent person for a few weeks and then go back to ignoring me?” Dave gritted his teeth, and turned to the huddled group at the stairwell.

“You all…You think your lives are so fucking awful. You get to vent all the time, talking about your pity problems like no allowances or running out of minutes on your cellphones. And what do you get? Support, love, acceptance. And when I tried to talk about my problems? You know, the fact that I wake up every goddamn day feeling like sack of shit? You wanna know what I got? A fucking belt on my back, and lectures on how not to be a pussy.”

“You all have it so easy, you don’t even fucking know. Do you know what it’s like to hear yourself dying over and over and over inside of your head, never-ending screams filling your head every day, every hour, and every passing second? And then having to put on a pair of shades, act like you’re the shit and watch everyone take a huge shit on you? I can’t fucking do this anymore. I’m done. No one needs me around anymore, so I guess it’s my time to go.”

Unfortunately, throughout his lecture, everyone failed to notice the teenager inching closer…and closer towards the edge, a maniacal smile on his face as he did so. Dirk’s eyes widened behind his shades.

“Dave-“

“Oh SHUT UP ALREADY!” Dave interrupted, grinning widely though there were tears running down his cheeks. “I’ve died so many times; this should be a piece of cake. Besides, nobody’ll miss me. Nobody ever did before, so why would that change?” he was screaming at this point, slight cracks as his voice strained to speak.

Before anyone could retort, the albino turned briskly on his heel, and faced the horizon once again. He lifted a foot up in the air, and seemed ready to take the step at any given time, when something stopped him. A hand – no, not just a hand, a very _warm_ hand – placed itself on his shoulder, and squeezed it lightly. Dave, expecting it to be his brother, whipped around, a scowl ready on his face until he met not Dirk, but Karkat Vantas.

The troll had obviously been crying – his face was flushed and his eyelids still drenched from previous tears.  He sent Dave such a soft look that almost made the human want to cry, and made his own gaze automatically fade to surprise.

He stiffened up slightly at the others touch, but he didn’t pull away. No, Karkat was far too warm to pull away from. And for someone as far as Dave who was so icy cold and numb to the core, it felt nice to feel a little warmth for once.

“Please,” Karkat whispered; something that was new to both the human and the troll. “Please…don’t do it Dave…You have so much to live for…” Karkat reached his other hand to Dave’s face, and tentatively wiped away the tears that had begun to dry up. New ones formed in the human’s scarlet eyes, and a sob escaped his mouth, flinging himself forward and clinging to the boy in front of him like it was the only thing left holding him up.

And in a way, in an ironic one of course, he was.

Karkat was startled at first, standing there stiffly as the human cried into his shoulder, but softly returned the embrace, rubbing reassuring circles into the blonde’s back.

He tried to think back to the day when Dave comforted him, what he did to make him feel okay again. But really, what did the human do aside from hold him and sing? Dave wasn’t exactly an American Idol Star, but Karkat knew that he himself couldn’t sing for shit. If anything, it’d make the human laugh. But laughter wasn’t what he needed right now. It was a friend.

Speaking of friends, John ran forward towards the two and joined in on the hug, sniffling as he did so. Dave shoved him away harshly, momentarily leaving Karkat’s arms in order to flip Egbert off before returning back to the embrace.

Karkat blinked in surprise, and John did the same, seeming a bit offended. Jade made a move to go forward, but Rose held her back without a word. Dirk stood and stared at the duo like they were the most complex puzzle in the world, while the rest of the group said nothing, and simply stared with nothing else to do.

“Why?” Karkat eventually whispered, his voice somehow still managing to sound scratchy and rough. “Because,” Dave whispered back, “I’m useless…..Remember?” His grip around the troll tightened, and Karkat was reminded of his bloody arm as he felt it’s DNA seep into his suit jacket. But that hardly mattered at the moment.

“No you aren’t,” Karkat replied with a frown, slightly nuzzling into the other’s neck as a reassurance. “Yeah I am,” Dave retorted with a sniffle, and even though he was only whispering, Karkat could feel the dread that was laced in with every syllable.

“I don’t think that you are,” he said without thinking, finding that he genuinely meant it, and hoping it showed in his words. “You’re the only one,” Dave answered, shoulders slumping slightly and relying more on Karkat to hold him up. Karkat gulped at the sudden pressure, and stood there awkwardly as the boy sobbed quietly into his shoulder. He had no idea what to do in a situation like this, papping was usually the solution, but that didn’t work with humans. And Dave was so much more…fragile than ever before, he was afraid that even the slightest moment would make him crack, and run for the edge again.

“Let me tell you a secret….I-It gets me through,” he started, voice only slightly higher than a whisper, but Dave heard him loud and clear and started crying more heavily, “and I hope you believe it….”

“Wake up every day, you know exactly what you want….” his voice cracked a bit as he sang, tears stinging in his eyes and he knew that he sounded awful but he increased his volume anyways, liking the way it rebounded throughout the others chest and then back into his. “And you will find it,” he continued, sniffing slightly, “just don't get lost….”

He began to start singing the next part, when, to his surprise, Dave did it for him. Karkat smiled sadly and joined in, both voices incredibly off-pitch and cracking. Another surprise was when Rose joined in, and Kanaya, Tavros, Vriska, Roxy, Dirk and Jane as well. The others seemed like they didn’t quite know the song, but they still hummed a long here and there when they were confident about the melody.   


And so the roof was filled with their singing, some pausing to cry and some merely continuing on even as the sobs wrecked at the chords and made them go haywire. Karkat somehow found himself rocking Dave back and forth slowly, and the human made no protest as he cried on into Karkat’s shoulder.

The last note was sung out, and the familiar silence echoed throughout the roof again before Dave felt heavy – a little too heavy – on Karkat’s shoulder. He was about to say something before the blonde began to slump to the ground, almost colliding head-first with the concrete had Dirk not swooped in and caught him.

Karkat stared down at the unconscious boy for what seemed like years before Dirk lifted him up bridal-style, and began towards the roof entrance once again. The crowd shifted so that he could walk through, Jake Jane and Roxy closely trailing behind the Strider. Still, Karkat stood there as the rest of the group followed suit, quietly and slowly, as if by moving too fast would upset time.

Karkat lifted a grey hand to find it shaking violently, and took a deep breath as the rest of his tears dried on his face. His shoulder was soaked; and the side of his suit where Dave’s arm had pressed against him was surely stained for good. But that didn’t really matter to him at the moment.

Because he couldn’t get his mind off of Dave. An uncomfortable feeling filled his stomach, like he had swallowed a bunch of icy cool metal, and it was weighing him down into a dark pit. He crossed his arms over his chest, and very slowly made his way over to the roof entrance.

Maybe, if Dirk was kind enough, he would let him stay the night, and watch over his friend.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy, sorry for the late update! D: I've been really busy lately, and I have practice the rest of the week after school until 9, so I probably wont update for another week. Sorry! I might put up a oneshot though, if anyone is interested in that.
> 
> Ohhh, and if there are any *'s left in there randomly, it was because I had to type this at school and I marked what words were curse words. Sorry about that.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading!~

Stuffily Stuff

Chapter 4

[S] Reader -->Be Dave Strider.

One does not simply “be” Dave Strider. It’s not easy being a cool kid; it’s not something everybody can pull off.  Normally, you the reader would be unable to become someone as cool as Dave Strider, but given the circumstances, not even Dave Strider is cool enough to be Dave Strider.  So, you will be granted an exception.

You are now Dave Strider, and you are alone with your thoughts.

                You aren’t sure how long you’ve been laying there in your bed, just staring up at the ceiling. You’ve been changed into your regular night clothes – which consists of a hoodie and sweats – and you can feel a tight bandage against your left arm.  There’s a lightweight blanket draped over you, and despite the flaming Texan temperatures, your skin is ice cold.

                You ran out of time.  Irony, your old friend, had betrayed you after all of these years. Your brother, the one who had trained you to not be weak – even taking physical means to do so – had saved your life when you were at your worst, not once but twice now.  Even the boy you’d loved for so long – the one that rejected you in the very worst way – held you as you cried.

Fuck.

Suddenly, you felt a pool of warmth in your stomach. You took a deep breath, letting your eyelids flutter closed.  And for the first time since you can remember, you felt almost okay as you exhaled.  Almost. The voices were still there, though they were faint and almost like static.  Like there was an old radio playing constantly in your head.  But instead of a snazzy tune, there were screams.

It’s almost disconcerning to hear your own screams in your head; torturing in the sense that you know you’ll never be lucky enough to meet your demise like your alternate timeline selves. It’s incredibly disconcerning that you wish you could be one of the screamers in an alternate you. 

You’re worthless.

                There’s no point to your existence, no benefit to those around you.  You’re just another poser wanna be with serious issues that you hide under your mask.  You’re a waste of space, only good for using up the air.  You had no significance to Sbrub, and your friends probably would’ve been just fine without you there.

You had to fake who you are just for people to like you.  And even that’s getting old, seeing as nobody cared enough to even come upstairs to get you for dinner. You’re just a third degree faggot that’s too weak to survive even though there are so many people with so much less than you’ve ever had.  You’re a selfish attention whore with anxiety issues, a freak show with your stupid red eyes and overly white hair.  What’s not to hate about you?

You fucked up, you fell for one of your best bros. You’re pretty sure that the only thing he’ll ever feel for you now is pity; hell, you don’t even deserve that.  You wonder vaguely if he’ll even be able to stand the sight of you anymore.  You get a sick feeling in your stomach from the nostalgia from your days on the meteor.

You missed the close proximity the two of you would share, even if it meant cuddling up for one of his shitty romcoms.  You missed the heat that would come off of him when you bumped shoulders, and the warmth that would tingle in your belly for a few short moments afterwards.  You missed his raspy voice, although be it slurred with curses and insults. You missed that way his cheeks would slightly flush when you complimented him, and go full red when you would playfully tease him.  Hell, you even missed the weird purring sound he made when he’d fall asleep on your lap.

God he was so cute.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard your doorknob wiggle, and light from the hall shone into the room.  You quickly closed your eyes and remained motionless as you heard quiet, delicate footsteps approaching your bed.

“I’m so sorry lil’ bro,” your brother whispered by your ear, and you felt a pair of soft lips pressed lightly against your forehead.  You felt like you were going to cry a little bit; you really missed your brother, and you were tired of the awkwardness with Dirk.  He stood there for a bit by your bedside, and you could only assume that he was close to crying to.  The warmth on your forehead was still burning, and you felt a bit sad when you heard your brother’s footsteps retreat back into the hallway. You heard the click of your door closing, but you kept your eyes shut. You may be worthless, but your brother did teach some sense into you.

There was somebody else in the room.

After a few moments of waiting, you felt the person shift, and you prepared yourself for whatever was about to come.

You were unprepared for another pair of lips on your forehead.  Especially rough, chapped ones that seemed to just radiate heat.  As this was going on, you got a whiff of sugar and cherries, a scent you had affiliated with only one person.  You felt butterflies in your stomach, and you knew exactly who it was without even opening your eyes.

You only wish you could take those chapped lips and make them soft again with yours.

“So…Here’s the thing,” Karkat’s voice broke the silence in the room, and you could feel your heart beat a little faster in your chest.

“I…I know you can’t hear me but…I guess this is practice for when I really tell you so…yeah. Dave,” Karkat paused, and took a deep audible gulp, “I am so sorry for what I did to you.  I had no idea, and I know that’s a horrible excuse but…You didn’t deserve anything that I said, and I wish I could take it all back but…I can’t. And I’m sorry for that.”

This time, you didn’t have time to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks.  You quickly pulled your arm up to rub them away, hoping that Karkat didn’t notice. “It’s cool,” you said weakly, even though you were trying to sound reassuring.  Karkat made a sound like he had been strangled, and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“Holy Shit! Fuck!” he exclaimed, and you glanced over to see him staring at you with wide eyes.

“You heard that? Karkat’s face flushed a bright red, and you fully welcome the grin forming on your face.

“Yup.”

You were awake the whole time?!”

“Mhm.”

Karkat seemed a bit irritated, and hey you couldn’t blame him.  Nothing that’s really new for him, but still a bit concerning, given your current state.  Did you fuck up again?*

“Why didn’t say anything!? Especially since I…” he trailed off, covering his mouth with his hand as he averted his eyes to the ground.  His face was as red as a tomato, and as hilarious as this normally would’ve been, your smile fell from your face.

“What?” you questioned. “The forehead kiss? I’m blond, but I’m not stupid.  It was a plainly platonic gesture; otherwise Dirk wouldn’t have done it too.  Fuck that incest shit, we don’t roll that way.*” Karkat nodded at your words, though they didn’t seem to help the blush on his face.

An awkward silence followed, and you rolled your head back so that you were looking at the ceiling. “Are you…okay?” Karkat asked quietly, and you took a moment to consider your answer. “Define okay,” you replied, and you didn’t even have to look back over to know that he was scowling.

“You’re a jackass,” he said out of habit, and you can tell that he felt back almost immediately after saying it.

“I know,” you replied trying to lighten to mood, but making it a bit gloomier by accident. You cursed yourself mentally as your friends scowl turned into a saddened frown.  He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it.  His frown deepened.

“I’m sorry,” Karkat apologized.  You raised your uninjured arm and waved him off, though he didn’t seem too convinced. He shifted awkwardly, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes.

“Hey,” you started, and you could’ve sworn in court that he winced, “you ever gonna return that blanket I lent you?  I didn’t mind at first, but I’m starting to miss that bundle of joy.” There was a silence, and when you opened your eyes, Karkat was leaving the room, letting in a small crack of light through the doorway.  You sighed, and slung your arm over your eyes.  You fucked up again, will you ever stop?  Serves you right for trying to act casual.  What, did you just expect him to forgive you? How naïve.

You sat there for a moment in silence, questioning your decisions.  You heard your door creak back open and when your removed your arm from your line of vision, you saw your friend returning with your blanket folded neatly in his arms.

“I was gonna return it at dinner,” he spoke as he made his way back over to you,” but you…never showed.”

“Yeah,” you replied, “that was intentional.” He only nodded sadly, and awkwardly placed the blanket towards the end the bed.  You took the opportunity to begin to sit up, very cautiously and slowly.

He turned back, and quickly caught on to what you were doing. “Hey!” he shouted, going to push you back down, “Don’t push yourself! You need to re—“

“I’m fine,” you interrupted and swatted him away.  After a few more moments of effort, you managed to completely sit up, and you slowly scooted over to the other side of the bed.  You patted the spot you used to sit in, and Karkat cautiously sat down, thought he kept as much space between the two of you as he possibly could.  Jesus, he was practically on the edge of the bed.

Way to make it awkward Karks.    

You rolled up your hoodie sleeve and fiddled with your bandage.  The cuts throbbed lightly underneath the wrappings, but you decided to ignore it.  You could feel his eyes on you, but you ignored that too.  You were tired, aching, and embarrassed.  You really just wanted to curl up and sleep, but Karkat didn’t seem like he was done talking.  Not like you could push him away anyways.

You felt sick to your stomach too; who wouldn’t be after nearly killing themselves in front of all of their friends?  They probably pity you, which is way worse than being ignored in your opinion.  They weren’t friends with the easily hurt and broken Dave, they were friends with the infamous cool kid with too big of an ego.   The person that you used to be.

The person that you’ve forgotten how to be.

“Your eyes are really pretty.”

You jumped when you heard Karkat’s voice break your thoughts, and you turned to him, only now painfully aware that you were without your shades.

“What?” you asked, a little quieter than you intended to be.  He smiled a little at you, and you felt your cheeks go a bit red.

“I said that your eyes are really pretty,” Karkat repeated, and you almost felt like a fish as you gaped at him. “Mine’ll be a shade like that in a sweep or two,” he continued on, and for once you were appreciative of his ranting.  “I never really thought about what color yours were since you were always wearing those stu—I mean, those shades.  Does that mean that on Earth, you’re a mutant too?”

You only managed a nod, and he did the same.  He thought your eyes were…pretty?  Damn, that shits crazier than Miley Cyrus in the Last Song.  It was like a fucking scene from one of Karkles stupid rom-coms.  Hell yeah, the two of you are gonna be twinning it up big time. Bitches'll call you guys DaveKat Strantas, hittin this shit up and—

How to be Dave Strider wasn’t that hard to remember, you suppose.

It’s always him that makes you like this.  He brings you a serious case of the giggles and grins, taking your emotions and shaking away all the bad ones without even knowing it.  He’s the guy who pulls you away from the darkness, and back into the light; he who makes you forget – even for a second—just how unimportant you are.  How much of a waste of space and oxygen, how you’re the world’s greatest mistake.  When you’re with him, you can actually _be_ someone. And even though you know that you don’t deserve it, you want it.  Desperately.

“Dave?”

You jumped out of your thoughts, and turned to him. Again.  You went to repeat it louder, but Karkat furrowed his eyebrows.

“Did you even hear what I said?” he asked, and you shook your head.  He groaned, face palming pretty damn hard. “It was embarrassing enough the first time,” he whined, and you almost felt a grin grow on your face. Almost.

“Well now you _have_ to tell me,” you replied, and the look he gave you afterwards was enough to pull that grin forward.

“N-No way!” his face flushed a deep red, and you find it hard to believe that he was able to hide his blood color for as long as he did.

“Why dude? Nobody’s judging.” You sighed contently when the atmosphere cleared to peaceful again, and realized how much you missed this sort of bickering between the two of you.  In fact, there was nothing you missed more in the world.

Not even your bro.

“Ugh, fine,” Karkat spoke, and you wondered if that victory was a bit too easy.  “I was just wondering if…”

As he spoke, you felt a wave of calm come over you, and adrenaline pumped in your veins.  You hadn’t been this content in almost a year, since your last goodbyes in Sburb.  It occurs to you then that it just has to be him; that nobody else can make you feel the way he does.

“...maybe, seeing as I didn’t even give you a chance and all that, we could try and…”

You’re so desperately smitten for him, he’s the one for you.  Too bad you’ll never be the one for him.

“…be ‘in a relationship.’”

You vaguely have flashbacks of all those silly cartoons you watched when you were younger, when the character would be scared or surprised when they were drinking something and spit it out everywhere.  Unfortunately, you had nothing to drink, so you resulted to a coughing fit instead.

You began to feel lightheaded, and it was like the tiredness hit five times worse.  You could feel your face heating up again – you must’ve just misheard him, you muse. There is absolutely no way that _that_ just happened.  

“What was that” you asked as your coughing died down.  He groaned in response.

“I’m saying that I’ll go out with you numbnuts, if you’re still interested.”

And that’s when you fainted.


	5. Tag & Seek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay; I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster lately. Went from one to a <3 crush, to a 3, to a AND <3, then back to a & 3 but I think I’m slowly edging back into just a and <3 crush. Girls are confusing. Asdfghjkl;. Creds to whoever understood that. Apologies to my moirail for fucking stuff up.

**[S] Reader -- > Be Karkat.**

You are now Karkat.  And you are running for your life.

“Quick! He’s headed for the stairs!” Oh, how much you would love to duct-tape that guy’s mouth shut.  You’re panting at this point, and you practically rip the door to the stairs off of its hinges as it squeaks in protest.  You slow down momentarily to avoid tripping over your own feet – you’d hate to go barreling down the stairs after all.

You were done for; you had nowhere left to hide, you had already been spotted.  It was all over, and you, Karkat Vantas, were a loser.

Not yet, you told yourself as you somehow managed to jump a landing.  You hear feet above you, clattering down the stairs like a stampede of wild animals.  Judging from the sounds, you suppose they are.  In a way. 

You slam open the door to floor 2, but you don’t go through it.  No, you keep going down the stairs, hoping that you fooled the others.

You held your breath as you stood at the very bottom of the stairs, pressing yourself against the wall in an attempt to not be seen.

You have to hold back a snort when they practically throw themselves through the door, trudging after a you that will never exist.  Taking a deep breath, you calmly open the door to floor 1, feeling prideful over your victory and—

OH SHIT.

You practically scream when you see that smug ass grin, and when a swift pale hand reaches out and touches your shoulder.

“Gotcha Karks, red team wins.”  Dave Strider smirks back at you, in his douchebaggery and all.  You can practically see the wink behind his shades. And when they lift slightly up on the left side, you know that he has, indeed, winked at you.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, and slumped against the door.  Ugh, you were exhausted.  After three rounds of Tag & Seek, you’ve officially just had enough.  Who even makes apartment buildings this fucking huge? It doesn’t help the fact that you’ve lost, the score was 3-2 and you were the last one on your team still standing.  You doubt that anyone on the blue team would really care, but you felt really discouraged about it.

In your opinion though, the red team was seriously over-powered.  It consisted of the Striders, Jake, Jade and Egbert, whereas your team was with you, the Lalondes, Kanaya and Jane.  You suppose it was a fair match, pinning the two blonde duos together; Jane evenly matched John as well, and Jake was certainly no match for Kanaya.

It was Jade, out of all of them, that found the most ridiculous hiding spots to fit herself into.  And of course, she just had to be a good runner too, so you were pretty much screwed over big time.

Most of the other trolls went back to Alternia after what you like to refer to as _the incident,_ though you and Kanaya found it fit to stay here.  What?  There was nothing left for you on that shitty planet anyways; your eyes have filled in, meaning that you can no longer conceal your blood color in the long run.  It was either be culled, or live an alien life.  And if that meant playing stupid wriggler games all day, you were all for it.

“You gonna sit there all day or…” Dave’s voice broke your thoughts, and you looked up to see him, one hand in his pocket and the other extended towards you.   You got that uncomfortable biting feeling in your chest, the same kind that comes whenever you know you’re about to come into physical contact with Dave. 

It’s nothing like the red feelings you’ve experienced before, and there’s no way its black.  Maybe you’re just anxious about his feelings for you?  God you hope not; you’d be living with this kid for the rest of your life. 

It’d just make everything more complicated than it already is.

You tentatively took his hand – surprise surprise, there’s that stinging pain in your chest again – and allow yourself to be lifted up off of the ground.  “Thanks,” you mutter before practically ripping your hand away.  Dave shrugs and seems unaffected by it, but you know that that’s not the case.  After all this time seeing him as an unemotional jackass, he’s finally shown his true colors.  And you weren’t _ever_ going to forget it.

 “So, are we just gonna stare at each other or are we gonna go find everyone else?” You rolled your eyes at that stupid little smile on his face and shoved him out of the doorway. “Yeah yeah, just try to keep up,” and you didn’t even have to turn around to know that he was smirking.  Fucking prick. You hated him. A lot.

So much that you could barely hide your own grin. Stupid human sarcasm.

\--

When you managed to round everyone else up, you met in the lobby.  You watched as Egbert and Strider exchanged a high-five, speaking in their natural idiot tongue.

“Bro, we totally fucking won!”

“I know bro, I know.”

“Some may say we are even…brotacular.”

“Bromazing.”

“Broi’moutofpuns.”

“Bro, it’s cool.  Sometimes there’s just too much of a broverload.”

_“Bro.”_

You looked away –honestly, anywhere else would be better than here, and woah—is it homosexual o’clock already?  You don’t even know what that means, other than it being in a movie you watched with Dave, and that he seemed to find it absolutely hilarious.  Shits for giggles, or whatever the fuck.  You will never understand that boy, and you’re not sure if you really _want_ to.

“Karkat, hey!” You looked away from Dirk and Jake to see Jade in front of you (damn that girl could fucking teleport) with a big toothy grin.  “Don’t take the loss too harshly, okay?  I’m sure you guys’ll win next time!” she chirped.  You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance even though you’re sure Jade could never annoy anybody.  She was too perky and nice.  You’d feel horrible even thinking about it.

“Oh, you’re all talk Harley.  Your team has an obvious advantage; two of your members literally grew up here.  They’ve practically memorized the entire chessboard of childish tomfoolery. Honestly, it’s pathetic that you really need them to win.” You crossed your arms across your chest, and watched as her expression when from annoyed, to confused, and then to puzzled.

“Oh wow, I guess you do have a point…” She said, scratching her head. “I never thought about that before. “

“Yeah well,” you sighed, not really meaning it but hey, you’d take a Strider anyda—No. You’re not finishing that sentence, “whatever I guess.” Fuck those stupid little thoughts.  God dammit, you do not have time for this.

“Well, if it’s really that big of a problem, I’m sure nobody would mind if we sent over Dav—“

“NOPE!” you shouted, successfully alerting the others of your conversation. Fuck, they were all looking. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What did Dave say that humans did when they were flustered? Dance?  But you haven’t danced since you were a wriggler, besides there were people around. What if human dancing was different than troll dancing?  What if you messed up, and they laughed?

What if Dave was just fucking with you again and—oh shit he’s coming over, act natural.

“What’s the big deal Karkitty? Someone step on your tail?” He said with the most shit-eating grin humanely possible and—holy shit are those dimples? Since when has Dave Strider ever had dimples? No, dimples are fucking adorable, Dave can’t have dimples what the fuck. 

You felt your palms start to get sweaty, and Jesus why the fuck is your heart doing cardio? Stop being athletic heart; you’re making the rest of us look like shit.

“D-Don’t fucking call me that, I’m not a meow-beast.” You crossed your arms over your chest defensively, narrowing your eyes in an attempt to look threatening.  You happened to glance up at your reflection through his shades.  Nope, definitely not threatening.  Jesus, you look like a grumpy meow-bea—Fuck.

“Yeah?” Dave laughed, taking your cheeks in-between his thumb & index finger and giving them a light squeeze. “You sure look like one though,”  he said, and you decide then and there that you definitely did not _blush._ Nope, never happened. Nuh-uh.  Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?

You shoved him away a little shakily.  If he noticed, he didn’t comment.  “Get your grubby paws off of me Strider, stop fucking around!” You shouted, a little too loudly, and it was then that you realized you were the only one still talking.  Meaning everyone was watching.  Great.

“I ship it!” Roxy hollered from the lobby-chair with a small giggle that only seemed to intensify when you shot her a glare.

“Whatever dude, I’m not the one that looks like a tomato.” Dave replied, raising his hands into the air defensively.

“Oh yeah?” You countered, shifting your glare to him. “At least I’m ripe, and not rotten with the case of douche-bag like you.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t really call you ripe.  You aren’t exactly ‘plump’, if you know what I mean.”

“Excuse you, I’m well aware that I’m not fucking fat, thanks.  I know how to use a mirror.”

“Karkles, I wasn’t talking about your body. I was talking about your—“

“If you say ass, I’m going to kill you.”

“…rump.”

“Why the fuck are you even looking there?!”

“What, a bro can’t check another bro out? What a cruel, cruel world we live in.”

“You’re fucked up.”

“You’re only now just realizing?”

Ugh. You rubbed your temple.  Dave Strider had this amazing capability of both physically and mentally _exhausting_ you, all-the-while giving you a migraine.  It must run in the family or something, because you’re pretty sure you had a similar run-in with Dirk not too long ago.  Jesus they’d be perfect interrogators; no one in their right mind would stay sane from a long conversation with those two. 

Why were you even fighting?  You had no fucking idea; and that’s generally how things were with him.  You guess that’s probably why the two of you’ve lasted so long as friends.  It’s not even worth questioning so much as it is getting away from that shit.  Changing the subject usually works, so that’s pretty much all youre going with right now.

“Ugh, whatever.  Are we playing another round, or what?” You asked, looking to anyone ‘but’ Dave.  There was a mutual agreement on another round, and thank _jesus_ Jade didn’t say anything about switching over one of the Striders. 

If they wanted to be a powerhouse, then let them be a powerhouse.  Intelligence outsmarts skill anyway, and you’re sure you’ve got more of a brain than Dirk and Dave combined.  You’re confident that if you really think, you could outsmart them any day.

\--

Three rounds later, and you were wrong. So _terribly_ wrong.

What made you think playing more was a good idea?  It was a good time passer, that’s for sure.  But Jesus, you’re sure as hell never standing up again.  Is this what Tavros feels like all the time?  You’ve never been this sore in your entire life.  All of your battle plans, all of your strategies—wasted.  They were just too goddamn fast.  Fucking cheaters.

You were lying face down on the carpet in the…lobby? You weren’t really sure where you were; you were too tired to remember, or lift your head to see.  You felt a harsh hand patting your back, and with a groan, you did your best to move away.

“Aww c’mon Karkat,” John said from behind you, “you can’t be ‘that’ sore.”  You grunted in response, and rolled over with a bit of effort, groaning at the ache in your muscles.

“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t be Egbert.  It’s Texas, I do what the fuck I want.” You didn’t realize what you were saying until the words were out of your mouth, but honestly, you were too tired to correct yourself.  Jesus, you hang around Dave too much.  You wonder if he ever picks up on any of your troll slang as much as you pick up on his human ones.

“Texas? Don’t you mean stupid?” John said, and you were confused for a slight moment before you heard Roxy giggling.

“What’s the difference?” She replied, and you listened to the two of them laughing before you remembered.  A talking sponge living under the sea was apparently some sort of entertainment for humans; a very sad yet unsurprising revelation you’ve made.  You made a move to face-palm, only to regret it when your arms thumped in dull pain.  You were never playing Tag & Seek again for as long as you lived.

“Well, I hope y’all liked the warm-ups ‘cause the real deal starts tomorrow.  Losing team has to do the winners laundry,” Dirk announced and by the sound of the erupting WHOOs, you lost all faith in…just about everything.

“Don't worry Vantas; I’ll go easy on you.”  You opened your eyes to see Dave leaning over you with a small grin.  You almost had the idea to spit; wondering if it’d even hit him, but knowing that he’d most certainly get you back.  Instead, you rolled your eyes, and sat up with only the minimalistic of difficulties.  At least, that’s what you’d tell people if they asked.  They didn’t; or rather they didn’t _have_ to.  One look at the younger Striders’ face was enough to tell you that he knew, and he was damn cocky about it.

“Shut up,” You said with a groan, pulling your knees to your chest.

“I didn’t say anything,” he replied, and Jesus did you want to smack that grin off of his face.

“Yeah, yeah.  Am I helping you back to your room or what?” As much as you hated to admit it, you definitely needed some help.  You groaned and lifted your arms up to him, expecting him to lift you up.  He did, very easily, into his arms. “Hey!” You shouted, hitting at his chest.  “Put me down you moronic excuse for a—“

“Woah,” he cut you off with a little laugh, “easy with the hands there Princess. I’m just helpin’ a bro out here.”  You rolled your eyes.

“Helping a bro out my ass,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.  “And don’t call me that.  I don’t need carried; I’m not a fucking wriggler.”

“Uh-huh.  What, would you prefer a piggy-back-ride?”

“It’d be better than this, yes!”

“Fine.”

To your surprise, he set you down on the floor again and lowered himself so you could get on his back.

“Dave, are you fucking serious right now?”

“Nah, Sirius died in the fifth book yo.  I am one hundred percent Severus right now.”  You had no idea what he was talking about, but you decided best not to question it.  Instead, you complied, and climbed onto his back.  He lifted you with ease – jeez, you needed to gain some weight – and carried you to the stairs, pushing the door open with his feet.

You opened your mouth to object; you’d forgotten that the elevator was broken, and you’d really rather not burden your weight on him up four stories of steps.  But he didn’t seem to mind, as he immediately began trudging up the stairs in his usual swift stride, hardly breaking a sweat. Hardly.  You caught one bead running down his face, and you wiped it away with your thumb.  He smiled in return, and fuck butterflies, butterflies suck.  Why the fuck are butterflies in your stomach anyways? You sure as hell didn’t eat any.

You rode the rest of the way in silence, leaning your head down to rest on his shoulder.   Fuck he was hot; like a walking furnace.  You could hardly hold back your appreciative purrs as you slowly leaned towards sleep.  You closed your eyes for a moment or two, testing the idea out.  Ugh, but that’d mean he’d have to put you to bed, and you’ve already made him do all of this. Best to just stay awake.

But when you opened your eyes, he had already kicked open the door to floor for –shit, you’re definitely hanging around with Dave too much—and was heading down to your shared room.

The rooming arrangements were pretty simple; there were plenty of rooms, so everyone got their own floor.  Rose and Kanaya took the first floor, Roxy and Jane on the floor above.  Nobody took the third floor; most of the rooms were too dingy and small. 

On the fourth floor were you and John; not really your first option, but the last one available.  Plus, it’s not like either of you’d be here forever.  John would have to go back to his Dad, and you…Were you going back to Alternia?  You haven’t decided yet; though the idea of culling didn’t exactly appeal to you. But you couldn’t exactly fit in around most humans and youre definitely not going to mooch off of the Striders forever.  Ugh, you’re too tired to think about this right now. Bed first, future later.

“Yo Karkles, you alive back there?” Dave stood outside of your room expectantly, and you sighed, knowing this is where you would be left on your own.

“Yeah, sorry. G’mme a sec,” you said, slowly sliding yourself off of Dave.  But he kept a tight hold.

“Not so fast bro,” Dave replied, stopping you in your efforts. “I was just seeing if you could open the door.  What kinda gentleman just drops their date off at the front door?”

“Oh I don’t know, all of them?”

“Touché.”

“Touché what? That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Never said it had to.”

“Ugh, I’m never gonna be able to take you seriously.”

“Then take me severusly.”

“DAVE.”

You growled, and he sniggered, turning around so you could open the door.  When you did, he propped it open with his foot, and stepped in.  

“Which room is yours?” he asked, and you blinked.

 “Uhh…Whatever one doesn’t have stuff in it..?” You honestly had no idea; this was the first time stepping into the apartment.  You crashed on the Striders couch last night, and you honestly didn’t have any luggage since you weren’t originally planning on staying.  John had the whole place to himself.  Of course, Dave didn’t know any of that. Ugh, what a mess.

“Just—Dave, just put me on the couch.”  You tried to make it easy for him, feeling slightly guilty for taking up so much of his time.  Wait, what? Why the hell would you care about that?

“No can do princess; we need to get you a bed.” You hit his back harshly, and you could practically hear the little dumbass smile on his face.  Fucking prick.

He took you to the first room on the left, only to find it occupied by various covers thrown about, and bags of fruit-snacks all over the floor. “He better pick those up before he leaves,” Dave muttered, and carried you into the other room.  It was a lot bigger than the previous one, something you were pretty grateful  to Egbert for.  You didn’t have time to be thankful however, as dave decided it would be a _wonderful_ idea to slam you into the bed on your side.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” You screeched, not really in pain, but still annoyed. You quickly detached your legs from him, and watched as the blonde laughed heavily.  He rolled over to face you with a huge grin on his face.

“You know what we should do?”

“Say good night because I’m fucking tired?”

“We should have a sleepover.”

“Absolutely _not_.”

“Aww c’mon, don't be a party pooper Karkles!”

“I’ll poop on any damn party I feel like.  I do what I want.”

Dave snorted, and it only took a few seconds for you to join in on his laughter.  Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?  What’s wrong with _both_ of you for finding that hilarious?  You were both laughing hysterically at this point, and you rolled around on the bed like a bunch of fucking wrigglers.  Not that you could help it, damn his laugh was contagious.

“Ohh dude, you’ve got some major issues,” Dave said after catching his breath.

“Yeah, whatever,” you replied after catching yours, though the smile still remained on your face.

He matched your grin as he sat up, pulling himself off of your bed. “Well, I think I’ll hit the hay,” he said, still snickering a bit beneath his breath.

“Night asshole,” you spat out, though it was anything but harsh.  He gave you a quizzical look – or atleast, from what you could tell beneath the shades, – and then swiftly leaned in to peck your forehead.

“Night Karkles,” he whispered huskily, and fuck there went those damn butterflies again.  He was out the door before you could say anything, and as you heard the front door close behind him, you began to relax.

You laid back on your bed, and stared up at the ceiling.  Were you red for him? No, you still got a glimpse of black here and there…And yet, he’s still your best fucking friend.  Ugh.  Dave Strider has officially turned you, Karkat Vantas – Romance expert, into a mess.

Fuck him.

…Okay, maybe you want to. A little.

“AUGH!” you yelled, burying your face into a pillow. Nope, not happening. Definitely NOT happening.

You were going to sleep.

Night Karkat, night hormones. 

…Fuck you hormones.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh....Yeah. That was a filler, if you didn't catch it on the way. Sorry for it being shitty; I honestly have no excuses. That's me trying to write with no inspiration whats-so-ever.  
> I tried.


	6. A/N

Err...Hello there. I apologize for my inactivity; I always do things like this.

In the beginning, this was supposed to be a oneshot. And then, of course I had an idea. So I decided "Why the hell not?" Yeah, that was a mistake. I suck at long-term writing. The most I've ever written long-term is seven chapters, and that's of my original novel that I have to force myself to write daily. 

Um...I'm honestly not sure if anyone really enjoyed this so I'm not going to over-apologize and all that, but sorry to anyone who wanted more. I honestly feel like an ass, but it's hard to write when you're depressed as fuck. Seasonal depression, yay.

I'll probably end up taking the rest of the chapters off eventually and just keep the first one but....This is just an apology and a heads-up. 

Sorry, again.


End file.
